a place to put things, like a shelf

Rats! Now that it's been a year (and change) of documenting, reflections: I always love a puzzle, a list is a great way to be succinct, and my use of perhaps (while frequent) is not actually correlative to my certainty. I have waxed and waned and yawned and kept my feet on the ground by jumping.  Here is a place to put a letter that doesn't have to apologize for its belation. everything is a sign if you're reading it Something akin to an assortment of resolutions: - letting the flames be fanned even if sometimes (or especially when) the wood is wet - trusting hands, leaping, walking like a sideways crab-- unconventionally forward. - arranging priorities and caring even when unnecessary - cartography Consider the beans soon to be spilled. And use the can liquid for soups. I am thinking about the archive more broadly than just this box too, and I love to archive in a box, and what good is a spring cleaning by the time winter rolls around? Any dumpster bear spotted could b...

Boo! I've been hiding my work from the internet (other than this corner, and even finished pictures from here too). With that I have been hiding my work from most other sets of eyes, which I have rationalized to having a purpose. The phone doesn't do it justice: the real eyeballs look so much more fully.  Hands want to touch. But! With every passing day since depositing the rest of the work of the same scale into the space I grow more impatient for a way to say hey! look at this!  No, really, look at this: It's good to take up space. It's good to take up space when it feels good, and sometimes it's important to remember that it can feel good.  Ping pong game with no one in particular but myself: I'm so full, I'm so full of it. I want to understand how to contain the object. The first frames sit so tight they shrink the thing they're supposed to hold up. (some irony there I imagine). The walls (t)here have been shifting what I think surrounding tonal...

Making contact! I updated the work calendar which now covers through mid December which felt like a reoccurring reckoning with the year closing. Something about a seasonal shift....... Aggressive squirrels. A week or more (more) ago I was late to dinner at the bosses house because I had to pluck a chin hair and consider my mortality. It's like the bangs all over again. But the moon has been huge, a hot drink is on the horizon, and the dogs bountiful. A fire that gets to be inside soon! And it wouldn't plug in. Note to self: sit outside for about eight minutes and usually feel refurbished. A month as a list: Going back to the crab, L show, even in registrar inbox Sasha Gordon and Major General First in Command Frufru like sake toast, community like pot luck Matching fear with preparation Mountain top charm, kneading seat, pairing with blue Dogs and other companionship Fearless of heat I go to eat the hot star, and other words in a airborne airstream. There's something o...

Wee!! Three weeks ago I was getting in the lake every day, floating and peeing and reading and painting on rocks and saying summer is most certainly not over and today I swept fallen leaves out of the house, so what is an ending if not a new beginning and over and over again-- all of these cycles happening constantly but at slightly different speeds. Puzzle pieces clicking lately. Major thanks to M&B and their garage of mice and me, me and mice, mice and I am always finding a mouse wherever I go. I have been saying I'm feeling awfully like a very big small rodent. Chew chew chew. It's like I've been fitting so much in lately and somehow things are starting to measure. I'm 26 and splitting wood. I'm focusing on squeezing everything I can out of each lemon even if I'm squeezing eight lemons at once. It's time to bake a tart? It's good to be full, it's good to keep running even when on empty, it's good to take a cat nap and wake up equal pa...

Fellow shovelers-- Maybe Irma was wrong and time is in fact not on my side.  The rain is pouring outside exactly one window. Yours in a way that won't stop digging, E

Hark! Holy Hot! Here I am months later still facing temperature issues-- something about inverses and equals and opposites. It's all green light and the car windows down and little clippies to keep the hair out of my face. And the light really is green, and so too the ground and the shade and every inch is taken. I feel my Iceland palette be corrupted by the same intense colors of past, and present, and seemingly again future. I'm holding on to those complexities, that dirty paint water. I'm looking back at this little face of my own, so many pasts meeting in the present. Hold it all tight. I feel a strong fondness for all these little color cards and how they have more intuition. Oh a conglomerate of things all happening, all the time, so quick and so slow, all at once. The clock ever ticks on with a rate that seems to be moving towards unnatural. I feel like I'm trying to figure out how to talk about my work again while forgetting that I've been talking about...

Dear Bears, I'm coming out of a hibernation of sorts-- not an extended sleep but a disruption from my schedule. After spending the most magical weeks in Iceland, in a remote little blip of a town, I feel a deep affinity for the land and a shock of seeing so much foliage after nothing but short low to the ground mosses. The imagery and the experience will stay with me for _____ (ever? a while? at least so far?). I mean look at this place, no softer bed has ever been made. No better place to lay my head! or the rest of me. It felt so great to be back in a studio space, a dedicated and focused place for making lacking in distractions like comfortable seating or chores or screens. I found that semblance of community I had been missing in my cohabitants, in the mountain peaks, in the birds gone fishin'. I already feel the yearning to return to a bubble that isn't my own... wrapped up in clay and breads and spoons and warm jackets. I have nothing but good things to say about...